That One Time Blaine's Job Got Blown Up By An Alien
by abbzeh
Summary: There were a lot of things that Blaine had expected to happen in his life. Running down a corridor, hand in hand with a stranger whilst running from a strange creature was not one of them. Glee/Doctor Who crossover. Doctor!Kurt, Companion!Blaine, Companion!Rachel


_A/N: Okay, I was going to work on some of the prompts I have for Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me, but then I Do happened. The makeout scene, Just Can't Get Enough, the slow dancing and the post sex talk? Honestly, Chris Colfer has never looked hotter than the scene where he was looking in the mirror. And it was just wonderful, because Kurt's sort of in denial, and Blaine knows it... Anyway, and then this happened instead. It was inevitable, really, me doing a crossover between Glee and Doctor Who. I love them both - well, I only really love Klaine out of the latter. How can you not love Klaine? They're basically adorable cupcakes in human form. Anyway, this sort of follows Doctor Who series one, episode one (Rose) for a bit simply because it does. This is how it turned out. Then it goes it's own way._

* * *

If Blaine had suspected the moment he was rudely awoken by his blaring alarm clock this morning that _this_ was going to happen, he'd have told you to go home and go to bed because _seriously_,_ that's just ludicrous_. He'd have thought it amusing to think of his day going down like this, thought it joke or story worthy.

And yet, here he was, standing across the street and staring at the building that once housed his job as flamed continued to casually lick at it. The night was cold, bitter really, and he could see his breath in front of him, a simple cloud of white mist appearing and disappearing to the beat of his lungs. Shivering, he shoved his gloved hands father down into his coat pockets, recalling the day's events that had lead to this absurd, almost movie-like moment that frankly should not happen to anyone in real life.

The morning had started out like any other. He'd been awoken by his loyal, if rude and abrasive, alarm clock going off at seven am on the dot. With a groan, he'd rolled over and shoved a hand over it blindly, movements guided by years of experience. He could easily have fallen back into the comforting oblivion of sleep, but he guessed that Christine would murder him if he showed up late or worse, not at all. So, with another loud groan, he'd carefully rolled out of bed, quite literally, and stumbled towards the door that led to his bathroom. Everything between then and grabbing a piece of toast was a blur, a routine burned so thoroughly into his mind that he didn't even have to be half way awake to do it. Wes, his room mate, was sat at their kitchen table with his head in his arms, looking like he'd been dragged through Hell and back again.

'Rough night?' Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow as he took a bite of his toast. Wes looked up to glare at him, and Blaine looked pointedly at the dark shadows lining Wes' eyes.

'David dragged me out last night with Marie,' Wes said, looking like the motion pained him greatly. He made a face. 'Said I needed to stop moping around after Katrina and get laid.' He buried his head against the wooden table and spoke again, the words coming out muffled. 'Worst mistake of my life. Never let David take you to clubs, Blainers.'

Blaine made a face at the nickname, no matter how affectionately his friends used it, and pushed his chair back from the table in retaliation before getting up. 'I'd better get going. There're painkillers in the cupboard upstairs.' Blaine turned quickly and headed to the door of their apartment, heading out of it and out onto the streets.

The place where he worked on the weekends was a fairly large department store. On a good day, it was filled with elderly people who walked around tutting at everything and never actually buying anything, mothers who had dragged their screaming children through the shop because they obviously enjoyed causing other customers pain, the boyfriend and girlfriend duo – ie, the boyfriend stands around playing on his iPhone whilst the girlfriend tries on every item of clothing in her size range – and thirteen year old girls who took pictures of themselves in the mirrors dotted around the place and Instagram'd them. Blaine was pretty sure that a great deal of his sanity was being drained through his ears each time he entered that place, but nevertheless, he persisted. He needed a way to get money whilst he was in college, and this was the best way.

All day, he'd had to put up with overly flirtatious customers, his sleazy co-worker, Sebastian, who he had told time and time again that no, he didn't want to hook up with him, and the snobbish customers who were returning items. Honestly though, six o'clock couldn't have rolled around fast enough, just like every other day. Sighing, he went to grab his coat and quickly pulled it on, heading towards the doors at the back, the employees entrance because the main doors were always locked about now.

As he made his way towards said door, he heard something. Frowning, he turned and looked behind him, but saw nothing. Stomach clenching uncomfortably, because he'd seen enough horror movies to know where everything started to go wrong, he turned forwards to walk to the door.

Only to find himself face to face with an ugly, scale covered creature.

Blaine yelled. That was the only thing to do. There isn't really much one can do when confronted with a thing that you've never even seen before. So Blaine yelled, and his flight instinct helpfully deserted him in that moment, leaving him rooted to the ground as the creature glared and snarled menacingly at him.

Oh God, he was going to die at the whatever-it-was' whatever-it-hads. Hands, claws, tentacles. He didn't want to know.

Just as he was convinced that he was going to die in the back of a shop, which wasn't even a decent death so he had a right to complain, a hand closed around his wrist, cool and soft. His eyes opened (_when had he closed them?_) and he looked over in the general direction of the hand. Standing next to him was a man – Blaine couldn't see his features properly in the dark, but he could just about make out the broad shoulders and the sharp jawline.

'Run,' the man whispered, and he turned and ran, dragging Blaine along by his wrist behind him with unexpected strength. As they thundered back towards the main shop area, Blaine happened to glance behind him, and he nearly squawked in terror when he saw that the thing was chasing them. It would really help if said thing had a name, but he didn't really want to stop and ask because honestly, it looked downright murderous right now.

Suddenly, he was aware of a door opening in front of them, then running into a place that was filled with light. He looked towards the mysterious man as the latter let his hand ago, and he jaw practically dropped.

Because the guy was absolutely _gorgeous _– there was no other word to describe him, really. Tall, pale skinned and hair that appeared to defy gravity, he wore a black suit and white dress shirt that had the first three buttons undone. It was a really good look for him, Blaine thought distantly.

'What is that thing?' he asked, mentally berating the waver of panic in his voice. The man glanced at him before reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a metallic cylinder shaped thing, though what it was Blaine couldn't work out. It almost looked like a screwdriver, but he'd never seen a screwdriver look like that before. He pointed the screwdriver at the door lock, and it made a strange high pitched buzzing sound. Blaine only just managed to catch the telltale sound of a lock clicking in place, keeping the thing back and the door between them.

'That thing,' the man began to reply, and Blaine was pleasantly surprised to find that he had an English accent, 'is something that will kill you, given half the chance.' He turned and looked at Blaine again, straightening up and smoothing down his suit jacket. The motion was almost subconscious. 'Which is why _you're_ going to get out of here and leave _me_ to deal with it.'

'Wait, what?' Blaine asked, already protesting loudly as the man began to steer him away from the door holding back the thing forcefully. 'But you just said it'd kill given half the chance!'

'Yes, I did, didn't I?' the man replied, his tone that of nonchalance as he pushed Blaine towards one of the side doors – fire exits, his mind helpfully provided.

'What are you, weird creature pest control?' Blaine managed to ask snarkily, glaring at the man. The guy just raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

'Something like that,' he said absently as he turned to the door they had reached, pointing the what-appeared-to-be-a-screwdriver-but-wasn't at the door locks again. He glanced over at Blaine again, frowning this time. 'No, actually, nothing like that. That's more of a job for my friend.' The telltale sound of the door unlocking reached Blaine's ears again, and he immediately found himself being pushed outside into the cold, the man saying, 'Now go home and eat whatever it is you Americans eat,' before the door slammed shut again. Staring dumbly at the door, he couldn't quite work out what had just gone on, or whether he had finally lost what remained of his sanity.

He began to turn away from the door when said door suddenly slammed open again, and the man poked his head out. 'Sorry, what was your name again?'

Swallowing, Blaine replied, 'My name's Blaine.'

The man smiled, nodding. 'Nice to meet you, Blaine. Run for your life!'

And then the door slammed shut again. Blaine began to move backwards from the building, deciding to heed this man's advice to run. After all, he seemed to know what he was doing, even if he did seem insane. He ran across the street, fumbling to get his gloves out of his pockets and pull them on. Just as he reached the other side, the building blew up. Large orange-yellow flames peeked out from the walls, and the glass burst from the window frames. Blaine could only stare in shock as he watched the building burn.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he was still standing in the same spot, watching as the firefighters fought the fire and slowly, ever so slowly, brought down the flames. It was clear to everyone that the shop wouldn't be opening again for a while, at least. Apparently, the thing that had caused the fire, when Blaine had eavesdropped on the conversations the officials were having, was a gas leak. Watching the building for another thirty seconds or so, Blaine finally turned, wincing as his frozen legs protested, and began the trek back to his apartment.

By the time Blaine had managed to assure Wes that _yes, he was fine_ and _no, he didn't need to go to the hospital for potential injuries and/or shock therapy_, it was going on for midnight when he crawled into bed. When the alarm clock rung the next morning, it was so easy to pretend that the previous night had never happened. Until Wes shouted at him through the door that he should just stay in bed because there really wasn't any point in getting up if he had nowhere to go. Blaine groaned and turned over, burying his head in his pillow. With the combination of tiredness and warmth, it wasn't long before Blaine drifted back into the cocoon of sleep.

The next time that Blaine woke up, it was ten o'clock. Sighing, he rolled away from his alarm clock and onto his back, just staring at the ceiling and trying to piece together what he could remember from last night. There had been a man – a gorgeous one, his mind chimed in unhelpfully – and there had been that weird creature thing. The man had said he was going to take care of it, and then the shop – and his job – had gone up in flames, all within seconds of each other. Blaine threw an arm over his eyes. It hurt his brain to think about it too much because frankly, it was just weird as hell.

A hot shower proved to be excellent at relaxing his tense muscles, and by the time he left the steamed up bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist even though he was the only one home, he felt much calmer than he had done for the last few hours. Absently, he padded back to his bedroom and pulled on some jeans and a t-shirt, not bothering with his hair. What was the point? Nobody was going to see him today anyway, apart from Wes when he got back and Wes had seen him in far worse states than bad hair.

He made his way down the hall and into the kitchen, quickly making a cup of coffee and dropping down heavily at the table, nursing the cup between his hands. He stared across the kitchen at the clock on the wall, not seeing it. The ticking was rhythmic, lulling Blaine into an almost lazy haze, soft and warm and safe from weird people and weird creatures and buildings that randomly blew up...

Suddenly, he found himself being brought back down to Earth. It felt like someone had just drenched him in freezing cold water, and the overall sensation was unpleasant. He looked around wildly, barely avoiding knocking his coffee off the table, and he realised he was hearing the same high pitched sound he'd heard last night. Cautiously getting up and glancing around him, he followed the sound, eventually ending up at his door, and he peered through the peephole at the top of the door. Biting back a groan of frustration, he opened the door, only to find himself face to face with the man from last night.

It appeared the man was just as shocked to see Blaine as Blaine was to see him. He blinked, putting his cylinder device back in his suit pocket – the same one, he noted absently – and straightened up, looking confused as hell.

'What the hell are you doing here?' Blaine hissed, narrowing his eyes at him and poking his head out of the door and looking down the hallway. He stopped. The other man wasn't alone, because there was a girl with him, standing behind him and looking at Blaine with a raised eyebrow.

'What do you mean '_what am I doing here'_? What're you doing here?' the man countered, staring at Blaine in suspicion. Blaine gaped for a moment.

'I live here,' he managed to answer, resisting the urge to rip his hair out in growing frustration.

'Well, what'd you do that for?'

'I don't know! I just do!' Blaine said in indignation, glaring at the man again. 'I wouldn't be here if _someone_ hadn't blown up my job.'

The man continued to stare at Blaine suspiciously before muttering, 'I must have gotten the wrong signal,' in a musing tone. The girl behind him marched to his side, flicking her fringe out of her eyes.

'Impossible,' she said to him, jutting one hip out and placing her hand on it, 'the sonic screwdriver never fails you.'

The guy nodded slightly at this, making a noise of acquisition in the back of his throat, and looked at Blaine again. 'You're not made out of metal, are you?' he asked, tapping his fingers delicately against Blaine's forehead. 'Nope. I'll be off, then.' He turned to walk away, and Blaine reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

'Oh, no! You! Inside! Right now!' he hissed, pulling the man inside. Before he had a chance to shut the door, the short girl followed them, glaring at Blaine. The man was looking around in interest, hands in his pockets. Now that he was actually in the position to ask questions about what had happened last night, Blaine didn't know where to start. He coughed awkwardly. 'Do you, erm, want a coffee?' he asked, directing the question to both of them.

The man looked at him, raising his eyebrows. 'Hmm? Oh, yes, thank you,' he replied with an easy smile. The girl said the same, and Blaine just directed them towards the living room, wondering why he was doing this again.

When he came out again a few minutes later with three cups of coffee (because the one he had left on the table had gone cold between the spacing out and the dragging the strange man into the apartment), he found them both sat on the couch, talking intently about something. They looked up when Blaine entered, and accepted their cups graciously. Awkwardly, Blaine sat on the chair opposite.

'You were there, last night, when that thing was there,' Blaine said, looking at the man opposite. He really needed to find out his name. 'You saved my life and you never told me your name.'

The man appeared to be deliberating something before leaning across the table in between them, hand outstretched. 'I apologise. I'm the Doctor,' he introduced. Blaine took his hand tentatively, shaking it and inwardly marvelling at the softness of his skin. 'And this is my friend, Rachel,' he indicated at the girl sitting next to him, who nodded at Blaine.

'So that's Doctor...' he trailed off, waiting for the Doctor to fill the space.

'Just the Doctor,' he replied, taking a sip of the coffee. 'Although I've recently taken a liking to the name Kurt, so you could call me that instead. That's what Rachel does.'

'It's easier than saying 'Doctor' each time I want to talk to you,' Rachel said, rolling her eyes at him.

Blaine swallowed again. 'But what was that thing last night?' Kurt regarded him for a moment, and it was obvious that he was deciding whether or not to tell Blaine. He sighed. 'Come on, you can tell me. I almost got killed by one of those things last night.'

Kurt sighed this time. 'That thing was a Selkie,' he replied, stirring his pinkie finger around his cup brim absently. 'Not the mythological kind. They're basically robots, all controlled by one mind. A bit like radio control, except nothing like radio control,' he added. 'Whenever one shows up, it always means there's more of them, which is very bad.'

'How bad is very bad?' Blaine asked cautiously, caught between not wanting to know and wanting to know everything.

Kurt cocked his head to the side slightly in thought, his eyes drifting to the side. 'About two bus rides, an extremely long walk and a sixteen quid taxi from good,' he eventually answered, sounding thoughtful. He made a face, his nose scrunching up with the motion. 'Did I just quote my younger self?'

Blaine could only stare in confusion for a moment before asking, 'So you said the – Selkies, was it? – are being controlled by a mind. How does that even work?'

'It works because the one controlling them isn't human,' Rachel chimed in, ignoring the look Kurt sent her as she turned to him and said, 'What? He's already involved. He might as well know everything.'

Kurt just sighed, massaging his temples like he had a giant headache growing. 'Rachel's right. The One Mind isn't human. It's literally just a giant brain that's extremely sentient. It controls the Selkies by sending out waves, like a radio transmission in a way. In order to take out all of the Selkies, you have to take out the One Mind.'

'And how do you do that?'

Kurt reached into one of his trouser pockets, and pulled out a vial filled with bright blue liquid, stopped with what looked like a cork. 'This will essentially just shut down the brain. Once we do that, the Selkies will shut down.' He placed the vial into the pocket of his suit jacket and folded his hands over one knee. 'It's actually more complicated than that, but I don't have the time to explain.'

'So why did you come here?' Blaine asked, flinging his arms out and gesticulating to the general area around them.

'We were tracking a signal,' Rachel answered as Kurt took another sip of coffee. 'We thought it might have been another Selkie.'

'But it must have been residual energy. Being in close contact with one can do that,' Kurt added, setting down his now empty cup with a certain grace. He appeared to be doing some quick thinking before suddenly jumping to his feet, his wondrously coloured eyes alight with a manic energy. Rachel jumped backwards in her seat, nearly spilling the coffee everywhere. 'We'd better get going. Got a brain to destroy!' And with that, he marched towards the door, his suit jacket managing to billow out behind him even though it looked tailored to his frame. Rachel smiled at Blaine before carefully setting down her cup and following.

Blaine waited exactly one second before saying screw it and running after them, slamming the door shut behind him. They were already halfway down the hallway when he managed to catch up with them.

'I'm coming with you,' he panted as Kurt raised an eyebrow at him. 'I'm serious,' he added when Kurt gave him a look of disbelief.

'Blaine,' Kurt said, stopping midwalk and turning towards Blaine, his expression serious, 'there is a ninety nine point nine percent chance that we are walking into danger.' Blaine shrugged, and Kurt's other eyebrow joined it's twin. 'That means that there is quite a good chance of you getting hurt, or worse.'

'It's not stopping you,' Blaine pointed out, raising his eyebrows challengingly.

'That's because this is what I _do_!' Kurt almost hissed in frustration, looking like he wanted to bang Blaine's head against the wall in an effort to make him understand. At Blaine's expression, Kurt just sighed. 'Fine. You can come with us.'

* * *

It turned out that the One Mind had situated itself in an abandoned warehouse across town. Blaine was beginning to think that this One Mind thing actually had little to no creativity.

'But to send out signals to the Selkies, wouldn't it need to be connected to a giant metal structure, like a circle?' Blaine questioned as they began to sneak around the back of the warehouse, trying to be as quiet as possible. Somehow, Kurt was managing to move without a single sound. Blaine was jealous of that ability.

'Usually,' Kurt replied, his tone absent as he glanced around them. He pulled out the screwdriver again. 'The last time I encountered something like this, I was in London.' Here, Kurt's tone went wistful. 'The Nestine Consciousness had attached itself to the London Eye. But it's different this time. The One Mind doesn't need the giant circular metal structure to send out signals.' He fumbled for words for a second. 'Think of it as being more organic. That's the only way I can explain it.' He suddenly stopped, causing Blaine and Rachel to stop behind him. Silently, he pointed the sonic screwdriver at a door that Blaine hadn't noticed before, and it unlocked. He turned slightly – Blaine ignored how his breath nearly caught as he stared at Kurt's profile – and motioned for them to follow him.

They walked down a dark corridor, trying to avoid stepping on any bits of random concrete that happened to be lying around on the floor. Neither of them said a word to each other. Eventually, a strange humming sound filled Blaine's ears, and he stopped to listen in wonder. Kurt and Rachel had stopped as well, heads tilted to the side.

'It's close,' Rachel whispered, edging forwards again. Blaine and Kurt followed her, moving towards an empty door frame (the door itself had apparently been ripped off by something) and into the next room.

They were immediately out in an open space, and Kurt shoved Blaine and Rachel towards some old rotting crates, forcing them behind it. He peeked over the top of them, frowning. Blaine followed his gaze, and he nearly threw up in his mouth.

Because there, in the centre of the room, was a giant brain in a giant tank filled with some sort of liquid that Blaine honestly didn't want to go near.

'You'd think they'd have better security,' Rachel muttered from Kurt's other side, raising an eyebrow at the sight – or lack thereof. Because honestly, apart from the giant brain, there was nothing there, except for the few rotting old crates that the three of them were ducked behind.

'For a creature that once took over an entire planet, you'd think it'd be smarter,' Kurt mused, almost to himself. He got up, tilting his head to the side and cracking his neck. He then walked over to the giant brain tank, took our the vial and poured the vibrant blue liquid into the tank. It immediately began to spread throughout the liquid, like ink. Blaine found it fascinating to watch. Kurt walked back to them, his face the picture of disappointment. 'That was anti-climatic,' he said in an almost petulant voice. 'There's usually at least one fire.'

'Stop pouting, Kurt,' Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she walked up to him and linked arms with him. Blaine began to follow them, but stopped as another thought came barging into his mind.

'Hey, Kurt?' he asked, watching as Kurt and Rachel stopped and turned to face him. Kurt raised an eyebrow in silent answer, nodding his head to continue. 'How do you know all of this stuff?' He gestured wildly towards the now ruined tank – Blaine honestly doubted the blue would come out of the glass now.

Kurt sighed. 'Because I've seen it all before,' he replied, meeting Blaine's eyes, and suddenly, Blaine felt like he was looking into a passage of time. His eyes, so bright and sparkling with unlimited reserves of both enthusiasm and maniacal laughter, now seemed to dim with an age so old, Blaine couldn't put a number on it. 'I'm a Time Lord, Blaine,' he said, his voice deeper than before, 'and I've seen things that you could never imagine.'

'You're a _what_?'

'A Time Lord,' Kurt repeated, looking off into the distance for a moment. 'I'm not human.'

Blaine cocked his head to the side. So Kurt wasn't human... it explained some of the behaviour, actually. 'So do all Time Lords look like humans or...' Blaine trailed off awkwardly, fishing for things to say.

'Yeah,' Kurt replied, looking at Blaine curiously now, tilting his head to the side.

Blaine shrugged. 'Okay,' he decided, flinging his arms out briefly before they impacted against his body again. He smirked, suddenly overcome with boldness. 'For what it's worth, you're pretty attractive.'

Kurt merely smiled at him, and glanced at Rachel for a second. Apparently, they were having a conversation with their eyes because a moment later, Kurt turned back to Blaine. 'So,' he began conversationally, 'you technically helped us avert any crisis, even though it was all a bit of a let down, you could come with us.'

Blaine frowned. 'What do you mean, go with you? Go where?'

Rachel stepped forwards, a smile on her face. 'Anywhere. _He_-' here, she poked Kurt in the arm, '-has a ship that can travel in time and space.'

Blaine's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. 'Wow, really?'

Kurt smiled and nodded. 'Yeah, of course I do.'

Blaine couldn't help but smile widely at that, at all of the possibilities. His mind was teeming and overwhelmed at the same time. Kurt must have noticed his reaction because his smile got a bit wider. 'So is that a yes to our offer?'

Blaine could only smile and nod.

* * *

In all honesty, Blaine had not been expecting to be dragged across town with two extremely happy time travellers (Rachel was actually human, it seemed – she'd just accepted to travel with Kurt and they'd somehow become best friends) to stand in front of what looked like an old English telephone box. He stared at it in confusion. Kurt ignored him and opened the door, stepping inside. Rachel followed him, flashing Blaine a smile. Cautiously, Blaine poked his head through the door and immediately recoiled.

Because that really, really wasn't possible. He took three steps back and looked over the wooden blue box again, and then looked inside again.

'It's a lot to take in, I know,' came Rachel's soft laugh from inside the box. Blaine took a step inside, feeling extremely disorientated as he looked around a room that really, by all laws of physics, should not be there. It was physically impossible to fit a room this big inside a smaller space. Still, the back of his mind noted, it was lovely to look at. He assumed that this was the control room of sorts.

'She's called the TARDIS,' came Kurt's voice, carrying across the room like a soft breeze. 'That's Time And Relative Dimension In Space, and she's my home, and a friend.' He rubbed a hand along the console in an affectionate manner. Rachel just rolled her eyes at him as she shut the door behind Blaine. Kurt messed with some of the controls, and he looked over at Blaine, the manic gleam from before entering his eyes again and his smile wide.

'So, where to first?'

* * *

_A/N: I honestly don't expect this to be any good. It was just a random something. But seriously, please review and tell me whether it was okay or not? _


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